Help is definable
by Vrow
Summary: You open your eyes, a headache greeting you as your thoughts are thrown together, spinning just as endlessly as the room...


Inspired by Hostage Prompt in Tumblr.

* * *

Help is definable.

But it felt so real.

"You changed 6.46 seconds faster than last time." You heard him, pride in his voice. "That's some impressive progress, don't you think?"

You never had enough time to answer before being knocked out.

...

"Oh." Disappointment. "I thought you were finally getting better, little badger."

He pressed the button again and you saw what you always did. You saw them changing back from their scared expressions and machineries retreating to their places with tics and tocs.

They weren't real.

"Again." And you were out.

...

"The recent data became unreliable, dear." Artificial and mechanical, that's all that she is. "... volatile state began to alter the test's ..." Fake, glitched voice. You blocked your ears to not hear. "... the serum, sweet cakes?"

"That would be wonderful, Maddy my dear." Demented, crazy psychopath. "Again."

You never asked for his help.

...

"The dose did improve his results." You struggled against your binds. It was useless. You were useless. "Again."

_"Be thankful, you ungrateful brat." He yelled at you, scary eyes shining all their red glory and dark promises. "I'm only doing a favor for you and your friends."_

...

"Amazing!" He shouted. "Quick enough to damage one of the ecto-cannons." Pride. Pride that shouldn't be there. Never should to be there. "Now we're progressing."

_"You'll thank me later." His finger touched the button._

_"I am sure I WON'T!" You replied._

_"Oh, yes, you will."_

_"I WILL KICK YOUR F-"_

Blank.

...

"Congratulations Daniel. This was your fastest time." He displayed the numbers as a prize. "But it took you 3 minutes that time, so we'll have to keep this up."

4 minutes and 24 seconds. The monitor glared, and you didn't glare back.

_"What did you call me here for, Plasmius?" You felt your eyes shine. "Goin' to make fun of me because of that?!"_

_"Heaven's no, my boy." He kept smiling as if that never happened. "I've only been thinking about what you said the other day, and I decided to help."_

_"So you're finally getting out of my-" Something shackles your hands, feet and throat. "I SHOULD'VE-"_

_"No, this isn't a trap." Vlad cuts you before you wheeze out the rest of the sentence. "I just told you I've decided to help, didn't I?"_

...

"I think we're done for today." He says and you almost feel glad, then your smile drops as he presses the button again. "Last time now."

...

You open your eyes, a headache greeting you as your thoughts were thrown together, spinning just as endlessly as the room. Someone must have gotten you good.

Even though this is your first time looking at this basement, (_in which, you're not really amused. You did wake up in weird places whenever a villain kidnaps you._) it felt like you've already been there, that you've always been there.

You start to look around the mechanical and bad illuminated place. No doors or windows in sight, a part of the room was twisted in a tricky corner, being your only exit if the place proves to be ghost proof. And knowing your enemies, this room is ghost proof and you might get electrocuted if you touch something you're not supposed to.

Later on, you get shocked when you touch something you weren't supposed to touch.

By the time you finish turning the corner, your half-dead heart stops.

The dejá vu of the situation makes your head spin. Your family is trapped, each one locked in a different type of device that was just made for each. Jazz is resting on some sort of a psychology chair mutated with an examination table, limbs securely trapped in peace. Your mom's trap resembles a web, her body in the center of the ecto-green glue, holding her tight in a cocoon where only her unmasked head was out.

And your dad in a gruesome version of the Fenton Stockades.

(_Something tugs in your mind_.)

And before you can go ghost, they begin to stir and wake. Surprised and struggling all the way, just like last time.

"Danny?"

"Danny, what's going on?"

"Where are we?"

"What's happening?"

It's the family hostage situation all over again.

Their questions go unanswered, just like their pleas for you to escape, to save yourself when you're supposed to save them. There are cameras everywhere and the door shuts behind you, activating their mechanisms with daggers, ghost spiders and ecto charging cannons.

(_He always got their expressions perfectly._)

"Danny!"

It takes you 3 minutes and 47 seconds to change.

"Danny!"

Anger and disbelief. Such alien reactions when you knew they would never get mad at you.

(_You weren't wrong_.)

(_But you still can feel the scalpel in your arm_.)

Surprise. Surprise and disbelief. Not anger.

(_The nightmares didn't help_.)

You get to destroy two daggers, three spiders and a camera before something shackles you down with familiar coldness.

(_It wasn't their fault_.)

There's something on your throat and you can't breathe.

(_They didn't know_.)

"Impressive." You remember all the times this happened. "A grand finale for today, eh?"

3 minutes and 47 seconds. The monitor glares.

And you don't glare back.

"I'll let you rest now, little badger." He turns off the light as something cold enters your body through your spine. "Tomorrow we continue with the treatment."

_"I'm only doing this to help you."_

_You were on the ground, breaking your shackles in a fit of rage._

(_Ghost tears glowed in the dark, who knew?_)

_"THIS ISN'T HELP!" Demented, crazy psychopath. "THIS IS TORTURE!"_

God, you feel tired.

_"You got it all wrong, Daniel." He's close, syringe in hand. "I'm helping you."_

_It's sharp when he stabs your neck. "I'm helping you to conquer your fears, helping to make the pain go away."_

Your eyelids are heavy and you close your eyes.

_"You.. "_ don't remember a thing.

...

You open your eyes, a headache greeting you as your thoughts were thrown together, spinning just as endlessly as the room...

And it felt so real.


End file.
